


Red Dead Retribution: Dead Man Walking

by Dovahgame2099



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: American Civil War, F/M, Murder, Native American Skirmishes with the US Government, Revenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 23:23:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17907674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dovahgame2099/pseuds/Dovahgame2099
Summary: Set roughly ten years prior to the events of Red Dead Redemption II Online, 'Retribution' is the tale of David McGraw, a family man turned ruthless Outlaw. People Don't Change. They Just Become More Of Who They Really Are.





	Red Dead Retribution: Dead Man Walking

**Author's Note:**

> So, I know it's been a good couple of months since I've made any projects like this, and I've put 'A Wolf In Sheep's Skin' on hold for the time being, but this project was something I'm quite keen on working on; it's basically the backstory for my Red Dead Redemption II Online Character, David McGraw.

The red sun set over the swamplands, bathing the landscape in an unholy crimson, surely a sign of things to come, for McGraw, and his fellow Soldiers had been riding, since dawn, to a camp believed to be housing more than twenty-six Native Americans suspected of attacking a homestead. McGraw had no quarrel with these people, unlike most of his compatriots, who had seemed to bay for blood as soon as the order was issued, as most of the Natives had resigned to live a more 'peaceful' life, which, of course, came not by choice; McGraw knew all this all too well, after all, he had been there, helping facilitate mass-murders and 'state-funded cullings', and he despised it, every second, but with the limited opportunities afforded to him by his ability, and the fairly substantial wages, he had been all but forced to remain in the Military, in order to continue to provide a stable life for his wife and two daughters, now both eight years old.

When they had arrived, it seemed that there was little-to no suggestion that these Natives had been the instigators of the attacks, the camp was full of families, men, women, children, and yet, this didn't stop General Westley from giving the terrible order; "Open Fire on these Sons of Bitches!".

The Camp, surrounded only by darkness, was lit up, instantaneously, by a cacophony of rifle-fire, accented with the screams of a broken people as they tried, in vain, to evade the hail of hot lead sent flying in their direction. A few seconds following the beginning of the shooting, once McGraw had got over his hesitation, he, too began aiming his weapon, and pulled the trigger loosely, but rather than aim directly at the fleeing Natives, he aimed just above them, missing the mark by about thirty centimetres; he didn't want this blood on his hands, not again; time after time he had killed innocents in the name of civility, and it was beginning to take it's toll. 

"McGraw!" Shouted the General, spit cascading from his lips, "Get on your horse and chase after them fuckers!", McGraw complied, with a simple "Yes, sir." And mounted his horse, Tessie, a Hungarian Half-Bred who had been his constant companion since 1878, when he was gifted it by the Military for his eighth year of service; he had been eighteen when he joined, offered a chance to right the wrongs of his father's generation, to help build a United America, and ensure that another division would not occur, as it had, just nine years prior to his enrolment.

He pursued the fleeing people with all the temerity of a dying Gator, checking behind him to see if any of his superiors were following, which they were not; 'Good.' Thought McGraw to himself, as he tore through the swamp 'This'll make my conscience much lighter.' eventually, he caught up to two of them, a woman and a child, ensnared in a wild entanglement of Swampwater and thorns, It appeared as if the woman was attempting to free the boy, but only managed to tear her hand in the process. As McGraw approached, he dismounted Tessie, weapons holstered, and advanced, cautiously, to assess the situation. The boy must have seen McGraw as he began to let out a strangled cry, and the women appeared to plea in her own tongue, and thus, in an effort to assuage their fear, McGraw threw his rifle to the mud, and put his hands out, saying "You folks need help with that?"

The woman offered no signs of concession, placing herself in front of the child, with her arms reaching backwards to comfort the child. "Look, I dunno whether or not you can understand me, but I ain't gonna hurt you, I swear." The woman glanced at him, suspiciously, and then spoke, with a thick accent; "You are lying." McGraw remained at a distance, but moved forward very slightly, and replied, strain in his voice, "No, I ain't," He heard the footfalls of the rest of the soldiers in the distance "But them fellers back there? They will. They'll kill you and your boy, please, miss, just lemme help you.", by now, the sound of the men's horses had almost assumed a drum-beat like rhythm; they were riding hard, and would soon be upon them, and so, without thinking, McGraw pushed aside the woman, and retrieved his knife from its sheath, prompting the boy to scream as he cut into the thorns around the boy's ankle, freeing him, then with no time to waste, he said, in a harsh but low tone "Now get! Go on outta here for fuck's sake!" Which they did, sprinting off into the undergrowth, getting lost into the Bayou as the cavalry rode far past McGraw into the direction of the fleeing survivors, and in the distance, the man saw a taller body drop suddenly into the swampland; he had failed. However, as McGraw stared intently into the surrounding darkness, he only heard one shot, and only saw one tall body fall, which meant that the child must have survived, though, the man concurred, this meant nothing, as it was likely he would perish regardless, without an aide of any sort to guide him.

He was damned.

After all the necessary dictations and procedures, McGraw was free to return home, and so he mounted up, and headed for his farm.

When he arrived, the sun had just began to penetrate the Cypress trees that surrounded the place, exhuming ghostly rays of light upon the farm, which stood, with mock stateliness amongst the marshlands.

The McGraw family home was fairly large, and the raised base made it look far more imposing than it truly was, it took around four years for David to complete the refurbishments, but by God, the look on his wife and children's faces made all the hours of toil worth it; he had built most of the exterior additions himself, the pig pen and small stable were by far his favourites, as he had paid a carpenter to engrave a swath of graceful symbols upon the gates, as, after months of failed carvings by his own volition, he had conceded and sought a professional. The house itself consisted of three floors, with the third, the attic, reserved for his daughter, Mary's bedroom, as she had liked the idea of being 'closer to the sky', the second floor housed two bedrooms, David and his wife, Elizabeth's room, and Clementine, their second daughter's room. Downstairs simply contained all of the typical amenities of the home, a dining room, and a living room.

David dismounted his horse, eyes weary, and head longing for a restful sleep, however unlikely, and fumbled around with Tessie's lead as he beckoned her to follow to the stable, the mud squelched under his feet as he trudged, without much strength, and then gave Tessie some treats for her efforts "Here y'are, Tess. Atta Girl.", he cooed, and then left her to sleep, advancing towards the front door, and then into the house, that was doused in relative blackness. The stairs creaked slightly as David arose to bed, but not before checking on both of his children, who slept soundly, and giving them both a kiss on the cheek. When he entered his room, he had expected to see his wife asleep, but instead, she lay awake, startled by McGraw's entrance, "You're back." Said she, a slight undertone of worry in her voice, "'Course I am, Liz." Came her husband's reply, "Why are you awake, sweetheart? It's late." Queried the man, as he undressed and clambered into bed. "I was waitin' for you. I was getting worried, David.", Elizabeth answered, "What you got to be worried about, huh? I'm fine, darlin'.", McGraw said, simply. "I was worried that you weren't, okay? How... did it go, then?" Elizabeth asked, moving closer to David, who replied "Not well. We was sent out to hunt down these Indians, y'see, on account of them attacking... You know Krenshaw's homestead? That one." He sighed, then continued, "We just... Opened fire, started shootin' them all, and well, I tried my best not to, but then I got ordered to go after the runnin' ones, an' this kid was stuck in these thorns, and I got him out, but...." He stopped, not wishing to distress his wife, and, seemingly sensing his discomfort, told him that he did not have to continue, much to his relief.

As day broke, McGraw's eyes finally began to droop, and he fell into the darkness of sleep.

McGraw was awoke a few hours later, by his daughter Clementine, who had resolved to jump on her parent's bed in order to awaken them both.

"Wha- God, 'wha- you doing, Clem? Get off the bed, come on now." Said a groggy David, as his daughter jumped on his leg, almost slipping over; "But-" Came her youthful voice, seemingly untired, "But nothing, Clementine, off the bed now, your father's had a rough night." Elizabeth said, sternly, as she smoothed her side of the bed. "Look" Her father said, "Just gimme a couple of minutes, and I'll get out the bed, okay, sweetie?" "Fine, Pa." Clementine's reply came, walking out of her parent's bedroom.

A few minutes later, and as promised, McGraw was up; not awake, but up nevertheless. He went to check on Mary, who was already awake as well, and was reading a book, then descended the wooden stairs to the dining room, to where his wife was preparing breakfast. David wasn't particularly hungry, but ate regardless out of politeness, "What would I do without you, Liz?" Said he, between mouthfuls of Bacon and eggs, "Die, probably." She said, chuckling sarcastically.

Following breakfast, he went to see how the pigs were getting on, and, as hoped, the biggest was soon to be ready to be killed; the chickens, too, seemed content, and produced a fairly decent amount of eggs, ready to be sold, or eaten. He ventured to check up on his horse, fed her, and readied her to pull the wagon. Their wagon was box-like, and fit it's intended purpose perfectly, even though the front-left wheel had a bad habit of falling off when least convenient.

"Can we go to town, too?" Mary inquired; out of the two, Mary seemed the most inquisitive about things, and was far more mature than that of her sister, despite Clementine being younger by only six minutes. "Why would you wanna do that? It's pretty dull, Mary." Affirmed McGraw - He saw no point in it, and deigned to bring her, as his tiredness likely meant that he it would only be more hassle, "I wanna see what you do,  _and_ I get to see the city!" Replied Mary, enthusiastically, "It's more like a town, sweetheart, ain't nothin' special about the 'Natch.", said her father. " _Please,_ Pa? Clementine wants to go, too, right?" Mary shot her sister a quick glance, "Sure! It'll be fun!", came her confirmation, "Damnit, you're really pressurin' me, ain't ya? Guess you should go into politics!" McGraw conceded, with a laugh, in the end, it probably was a good idea, he thought, to spend some time with them; "Alright then, get some sturdy boots on, and we'll get goin', I guess." "Yes!" Said both girls in almost perfect unison, "You're the best!" Added Clementine.

The ride up to Natchitoches was fairly slow, to avoid angering any nearby Alligators, and getting stuck in the mud, but once they got there, the heat had begun to beat down upon their necks, and so McGraw put on his grey Cowboy Hat, to assuage this.

"Here we are, miladies." Said McGraw, in a mock English accent, "Come on, then, let's get this produce to the market." He continued, helping his children off the wagon, both Mary and Clementine seemed wowed by the city every time they visited, and McGraw had to admit, despite the hardships the city faced, particularly the Fire of '63, it had become a fairly bustling town once more, "Right then, shall we?" Came he, strained slightly, as he offloaded a crate from the wagon; Mary had begun to wander off slightly, so McGraw put down the crate and went up to her, "Mary?" She turned to face her father, and, then, all of a sudden a horse came tumbling down the road neighing vehemently towards her; the rider seemed to have lost all control - "Damnit, Mary! Outta the road, girl!" shouted her father harshly as he grabbed her wrist and pulled her out of the path of the oncoming horse, which sprinted straight past them, knocking into a fruit stand down the road behind them. "You okay, sweetheart?" McGraw said, shaken; if he hadn't of been there- "I'm fine, daddy, I'm... I'm sorry..." Mary said, similarly uncomfortable, "It's... It's alright, Mary, just don't wander off like that next time, y'hear?".

Once that ordeal had been moved past, he took his daughters to the market, making sure that they were both in front of him, where he could see them.

The city of Natchitoches was particularly bustling today, as the people were readying themselves for the winter that would surely be as rough as the previous years, and so, it took longer than expected to haul their goods to the market, but when they were finished, the McGraws had around $5.25. The shopkeeper was a portly gentleman of around forty years, whom McGraw knew to be a Mormon who became sorely lost on the way to Salt Lake City in 1859, and instead decided to abandon his search, and settle in Lousiana instead; "Been good to see you, David, and your folk; they seem like good kids." Congratulated the shopkeeper, as he handed McGraw his money, "They sure is, Mister Byron, thanks again." With that, and the passing of the day, McGraw and his daughters left for home.

The wagon was much easier to manoeuvre now it was no longer filled with the result of a month's-long toil, and the landscape was easy enough to traverse if one had experience, which, by all accounts, David McGraw certainly possessed. "You two are probably going to have to go to sleep when we get back, it's gettin' mighty late." David intoned, for, he too, longed for a rest. "I'm not even tired..." Clementine yawned, resting up against her sister, "Sure you're not", retorted Mary. As the wagon advanced through the Bayou, she spied two yellow eyes, half submerged in the murky water, her nerves had begun to rise now, "Pa? There's a Gator..." Mary whispered, trembling slightly, "I know." McGraw replied calmly, "Just don't make too much of a fuss, and he ain't gonna hurt ya, besides, I'm here. Don't worry, okay?" He said, remaining calm, to which Mary simply said "Okay." quietly.

About halfway into the journey, both of the McGraw children had fallen asleep, much to David's relief, as he chuckled to himself, "At least they ain't worrying now." The road had been fairly sparse thus far, and so he was fairly surprised when he glanced behind him and saw a rider behind him, who couldn't have been there for long; there was only one path up the Bayou, but he hadn't been following the whole way -

As if instantaneously, David heard a man's voice from up ahead, who shouted, threateningly, "Stop that fuckin' wagon, Mister!" McGraw stared forward as a cloaked man carrying a rifle appeared from the trees; the man pointed the rifle at McGraw's head, prompting him to stop sharply, making the horsewhip cut into Tessie's skin slightly. David glanced swiftly behind him, to see the man who was behind him pointing a revolver, not at him,

_But his children._

"Stop pointin' that goddamn rifle at my kids!" Screeched McGraw, in vehement terror, "I 'spect I can do whatever the hell I want, cowpoke." Replied the man, in a drawled tone, sounding younger than the first; both men were wearing face-obscuring bandannas, which, David surmised, could only mean a single thing:

"I-I take it this here's a robbery then?" Questioned McGraw, anxiety punctuating every word, "That it is, asshole." Came the man, who had a similar accent; they were certainly not from around here, perhaps somewhere up west. He heard shuffling in the back of the wagon, "Daddy? What's happenin'? Clementine's small voice seemed even smaller given the situation. "Nothin' darlin', just a couple of folks..." David was lost for words, nothing he could say would lessen his daughters' obvious terror; "We're robbin' you, sweetheart." The younger man chuckled, in a tone of mock-comfort, as Clementine began to cry. Mary attempted to comfort her sister but was equally as fearful.

"Look," McGraw began, "I got 'bout Five Dollars, an' twenty-five Cents, okay? You can have that, it's all I got..." David wasn't willing to put up a fight, especially not if it could endanger his children, he got off of the wagon, and raised his hands, as the older robber came towards him, rifle still raised at his skull, "Don't try nothin' funny, get me that money. Now." The man almost growled, as David reached into his pockets slowly, to retrieve his hard-earned money, and handed it to the man, who snatched it out of his hand immediately. "I say we just shoot him, and  _them._ " came the other's weaselly voice, "Wait! No!" Shouted McGraw, prompting the older criminal to hit him with the butt of his rifle, knocking him to the ground, "No, you fool. And risk gettin' the law on us? Are you that stupid?" exclaimed the older thief, to the younger one, who groaned and retorted "But Pa-" He stopped himself, and was shot a murderous glance by the older gentleman, "Fine." He said, in submission, as the two began to ride off into the opposite direction, thankfully away from the farm.

By this time, McGraw had gotten to his feet, and was comforting his daughters; "It's okay, I'm here. Ain't no-one gonna hurt you, understand?" The girls said nothing, and merely held onto their father for dear life. "Let's get on home, okay?" McGraw said.

The final push home was silent for the most part, broken occasionally with the quiet sobs of Clementine and Mary, until they arrived home, shrouded in shadow.

McGraw took the children straight upstairs, leaving Tessie and the wagon coupled together. For hours, he remained with them both until they both fell asleep, at which point, David carried Mary upstairs and into her own bed, leaving him the only conscious member of the house.

He ventured downstairs to the kitchen and took out a flask of whiskey from the top shelf with still shaking hands, to drown his nerves, then collected his rifle, and a chair, and sat in the entrance doorway with his loaded weapon for the remainder of the ungodly night. 


End file.
